


Eternal Summer

by AshesSnowAndDreamsDeferred



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, Romantic Pete, Summer Lovin', i tried to make it cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-12 04:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20152582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesSnowAndDreamsDeferred/pseuds/AshesSnowAndDreamsDeferred
Summary: It's too hot to be alive but Pete and his special brand of Summer Lovin' make it better.





	Eternal Summer

The A/C on their shared bus is busted to hell which is incidentally how they’re feeling. It’s too hot to be alive and both he and Patrick are drenched in sweat and desperation. Pete thinks about pinning him and biting him and nosing at the tender skin of his inner thighs.  
Patrick is horribly flushed but Pete thinks he’s as gorgeous as always. His hat has been discarded and his hair is slicked down around his face and hanging down in his heavily lashed tidepool eyes. He’s traded the usual jeans for baggy shorts and he’s wearing a shirt so old the logo is too faded to read.  
Patrick tugs again at the collar of his worn soft shirt and reveals tantalizing glimpses of his sharp collarbones. Pete thinks about letting his teeth catch the cliff-edges of them.  
“Can I Trick?” He breathes into the oppressive heat, forgetting once again that no matter how it may seem, Patrick can’t actually read his mind.  
“Can you what? It’s hot Pete. Go somewhere and leave me to drown.” The blond snipes back and shoots daggers from his eyes.  
The bassist internally winces. Bitchy Patrick was just as lovable as any other form of Patrick, but maybe it wasn’t a good idea to mess with him at the moment.  
Andy is usually advising him to pick his battles and shit and if Pete wants any chance of Patrick putting up with him today, he needs to let this one go.  
So, instead, he mutters a soft “never mind.” And gets up to rifle through the cramped kitchenette. There’s admittedly not a whole lot in stock and he’s honestly about ready to call it quits and retreat to the bunks where it’s quiet and dark. That is of course, until his second pass through the freezer when he comes across his prize.  
There, crammed way in the back is a small package of popsicles and he does a mental tally as he pulls them out. A pair for each of them and a remainder of one to save for later. Perfect.  
He throws open the curtains blocking the kitchen window and holds the packages up to the punishing sunlight. He ignores Patrick’s shocked hissing and makes a triumphant noise. Each of the popsicles is different, only distinguishable by the colored cast tinting the plastic. Bright red, dark red, purple and orange.  
Obviously, the orange goes to Patrick and he seriously deliberates over which other colors to give to his singer. Ultimately he decides on the dark red based on the mental image of the frozen treat tinting Patrick’s scrumptious lips and tongue.  
“Catch!” He calls after he’s already let the popsicles fly.  
“Huh, what?” The blond looks up from GarageBand just in time to get smacked in the face. “Pete you prick! That hurt.” He spits and rubs his smarting nose without realizing just what he had been assaulted by.  
Pete plops himself down at Patrick’s feet and beams at him. “They’re popsicles, should make you feel better.”  
With narrowed eyes and a turned-up nose, Patrick snatches the packets and whirls away to hide in his bunk.  
Still grouchy. That’s fine, Pete will just have to think of better ways to make Patrick’s mood improve.

—  
“Turn up the air Pete, it’s too fucking hot.”  
“It’s on max, Tricky.”  
He grumbled and readjusted his sunglasses, gazing out the window.  
Unfamiliar street signs passed them by on the other side of the glass and Patrick wondered again where Pete was taking them.  
A callused palm landed on the vocalist’s thigh and squeezed when Patrick smacked him without looking up.  
“Pete. Don’t fucking touch me right now.”  
“Be nice babe.”  
“No. It’s hot, I’m sweaty, the sun’s in my eyes and you still won’t tell me where we’re going.”  
“It’s a secret. But a good one!”  
“You say that but is it my idea of a good surprise or yours?”  
Pete pulled their rented Jeep off to the side of the road and tilted his’s lover’s chin so their eyes could meet. “I thought they were the same?” He sighed in a small voice. “I can take us back to the hotel if you really don’t want to be out right now.”  
To be fair to both himself and the bassist, Patrick honestly debates it. Pete squirms in the humid silence while Patrick decides that no, he’d honestly like to just be with him today. All things considered, it may be hotter than Lucifer’s saggy ballsac, but life is fine today. “Nah, Petey. Let’s keep going, you promise it’s worth it?”  
He nods rather like he’s trying to detach his head from his shoulders. Endearingly, he crosses his fingertip over his heart. “Alright then. Let’s go.”  
Abruptly Patrick is yanked across the center column and a sloppy kiss is smacked against his mouth. He responds to the best of his ability even though it seems like Pete is trying to gnaw his lips off his heat flushed face.  
A car speeds by blaring their horn and they jump apart like the guilty teens they no longer are. He does his best to compose himself and runs his long fingers through the silky fluff of his hair, weighed down by the buckets of sweat running down his face. With an air of finality, he replaces his hat on his head and goes back to gazing out the window, this time with his fingers twined with Pete’s on the console between them.  
Once again they’re rushing down the roads that look the same no matter where they go. Eventually the liminal space between the yellow lines transitions into a one-lane road leading through lush green trees.  
“... are you gonna tell me where you’re taking us?” He asks again  
“Nah, but we’ll be at our destination soon.”  
“... did you tell Andy and Joe where we’re going?”  
“It’s alright babe. I told Andy. Let’s just relax and enjoy our day off.” Pete crooned and squeezed his hand.  
They drove in silence for a while, the only sound was the gravel grinding under dusty tires and the Jeep’s air conditioning working desperately to cool off the men riding along.  
Eventually, he was told to close his eyes, which Patrick proceeded to do, but not without some grumbling. The sound changed, going softer, more like a whisper than a dry crackling. He did his best to guess where they were but came up blank so he stopped trying and instead busied himself with staring at the backs of his eyelids.  
The Jeep came to a stop and the heat pressed in on them when Pete opened the door. “Keep your eyes closed.”  
Doors were opened and shut as Pete unpacked and set up the surprise. Just as Patrick was starting to get impatient his husband returned and pulled him out of the car and slid his hands over his eyes so he wouldn’t be tempted to look where they were walking.  
The walk is blessedly short and Patrick has a moment to recognize the sound of lapping waves before Pete unveils the surprise.  
Piles of blankets and plush pillows have been artfully arranged into a nest beside an overflowing picnic basket with a pair of Patrick’s swim trunks folded on top. A Bluetooth speaker is playing soft melodies that give the whole scene a relaxed feel. Unbidden, his heart swells in his chest until he could just choke on all the syrupy sweet affection.  
“You did this... for me?” He breathes and pulls Pete into the most tender of kisses. “I love you so much, Pete.”  
When he pulls away Pete tries to chase his mouth with a pout. “One more kiss baby?”  
With one more peck to the cheek Patrick pads away to scoop up the shorts and change behind the cover of the thick summer green trees.  
The water is cool but not cold, the perfect balm to their overheated flesh. Patrick squishes his toes into the lake mud just because he can.  
Behind him, he hears Pete wade into the water and leans into the arms he wraps around his waist. "Thank you, Pete. I know I've been a bastard for the last few days. You didn't have to do all this for me."  
"I know." Pete murmurs against his throat. "But I wanted to. What kind of lover would I be if I didn't pamper my husband every now and again?"  
Patrick laughs and pulls away to wade deeper into the cool water. "A selfish one."

—  
The swim trunks are inched off Patrick’s hips little by little as if Pete is afraid that he’s about to be shoved away. Maybe ten years ago that may have been a problem, but now Patrick just pulls his husband forward by a hand knotted in his hair. The kiss is wet with lake water which objectively tastes terrible, but underneath is the taste of berries and summer heat and love and Patrick decides that this is alright.  
Pete rubs his thumbs in warm circles on Patrick’s hips as the shorts fall to the ground with a sodden splat. He shivers despite the summer heat and starts to work on Pete’s considerably smaller shorts. His fingers get tangled in the ties and he scowls at Pete’s braying laughter.  
“Well, then you do it.” He pouts and crosses his arms, trying to put his nudity out of his mind.  
When Pete’s shorts also fall Patrick can’t help but eye the bassist’s body in appreciation. They reach for one another at the same time and they kiss again, easy as breathing.  
Pete starts walking them backward and falls onto the blankets and cushions he’d artfully laid out. That jerk obviously knew that they would end up here.  
A callused palm wraps around the blood-heat of his prick, just this side of too much. Patrick stifles his moan into Pete’s mouth and busies himself with winning their battle of tonsil hockey, jerking his hips into Pete’s hand sharply.  
Patrick has a feeling that this is going to be over far too quickly. After all, he and Pete have over a decade of getting to know each other’s bodies. Pete swipes his thumb over the wet tip of Patrick’s cock and makes a hungry noise into the kiss which Patrick returns.  
He wrenches as far away as possible and immediately mourns the loss.  
Pete can’t quite mask his concern but immediately stops trying to grope him. “‘S wrong baby?”  
“Nothing. Just wanna put my mouth on you.” He replies and pushes Pete by the shoulders until he’s reclined in their lakeside love nest. As always, he makes a beautiful picture, all tawny skin and dark patterns that make Patrick’s mouth water. He looks like a pharaoh or a particularly pleased house-cat.  
A slow smirk curls Pete’s full mouth as he makes himself comfortable. His burnt sugar brown eyes are kindling a deep warmth in Patrick’s stomach like the sunshine whiskey they resemble.  
“C’mere babe.” Pete breathes and tilts Patrick’s chin up with a finger. “I love you.”  
"Yeah, me too." Patrick's smile is something soft that makes Pete's stomach flutter. The butterflies are promptly incinerated when Patrick's lush, bitten red mouth meets the head of his cock.  
Patrick wraps his hand around the base and takes it in like a champ, all wet suction, and clever fingers.  
"Fuck, Patrick, don't stop." Pete wheezes and tries to buck his hips into the heat of Patrick's mouth.  
Patrick hums out a laugh and meet's Pete's eyes just as he twists his wrist in the exact way that he knows Pete likes and receives a loud moan and the taste of pre in return. Normally he hates his hair being touched but when his husband knots his fingers into the sweat-damp strands he just leans into it and lets Pete control the pace. In well-practiced motions, Pete rocks his hips into the pleasure the blond is giving him as Patrick bobs his head, both of them careful to keep Patrick from choking.  
When Pete's motions start becoming more erratic he pulls Patrick off and up so their lips can meet. With a moan, he licks the taste of himself out of Patrick's mouth.  
After that, it's a quick matter of them jerking each other off while trading kisses until their orgasms roll through them more like a gentle wave than a sudden ending.  
The proof of their shared ecstasy is splattered across both their stomachs and Patrick is feeling the sudden urge to laugh. Pete beats him to it though and guffaws into the sweaty crown of his head.  
In the space between blinks, the air is suddenly filled with little twinkling stars. Patrick can’t remember the last time that he saw fireflies and in the post-orgasm glow, he imagines that this is what it’s like to be in the center of a galaxy. They carefully separate themselves and clean off with the corner of the blanket. All is right with the world as the fireflies shine and fade and shine. When one lands on Pete’s nose and he crosses mocha eyes to look at it Patrick thinks that maybe summer heatwaves aren’t so bad, as long as he can spend them with his husband.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for joining me on this trip. If you liked it, drop me a kudos and comment, and come visit me on Tumblr @ginandkeroscene.
> 
> (I would also like to formally apologize that the formatting is so fucked, I couldn't figure out how to fix it to save me.)


End file.
